


Don't Play With Me, My Paper Heart Will Bleed

by eajje



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22749955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eajje/pseuds/eajje
Summary: Jae's never really realized how bad the repercussions of his actions could be. Or well, at least that WAS the case. But then he's suddenly forced to come face to face with one of them.What happens then?
Relationships: Kim Wonpil/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	Don't Play With Me, My Paper Heart Will Bleed

Jae was at some random bar three blocks away from his and Brian’s apartment because, _apparently_ , he needed to _clear his head_ and _think about his actions_ before they started having make up sex. After six stupid arguments in the past month alone? He doubted any amount of self reflection would fix whatever issues they were already having. 

He’d try though—if only just to appease his boyfriend and tell him that he at least did _that_.

There was a half-empty bottle of _Budweiser_ in his hands; condensation seeping out of the glass and dripping down the cracks between his knuckles as he sighed and offhandedly wondered how long it would take for it to be believable enough for Brian to finally start making out with him again. He sighed, checked the clock hanging just above the bartender’s head—quarter to ten—and groaned.

An entire _hour_ too early.

Why did he have to open his idiot mouth and be _honest_ about having forgotten their fourth anniversary in the first place anyway? Jae chides himself because, well, he _really_ should have known better than to do that, right? He should have put together some lame ass excuse about being busy—which, technically, wasn’t really a _lie_ per se; his and Sungjin’s music school was gaining a lot more traction and interest than they both initially predicted it would—and Brian would have eaten that up and understood. All of this would have never happened then.

A chuckle to his left had him snapping out of his self deprecating misery. He took a swig of his, now, lukewarm beer before twisting his neck to sneak a look at his new companion.

It was another guy—around his age if not younger—with long(ish) curly hair parted at the center; a smile that seemingly showed off all his teeth as he kept his gaze locked at the bar top and circled his finger around the rim of his rocks glass. 

_A man of taste_ , Jae thought to himself. The whiskey he was treating himself to looked like it was the expensive kind just from the color alone.

“You find problematic people funny?” He asked.

The stranger shook his head with something that could only be described as a _giggle_. Jae hadn’t even been sure that boys _could_ giggle.

“No,” The guy responded. “ _Relationship_ problems are funny.” He clarified.

Jae huffed. “And how are you so sure that it’s about a relationship? Not everyone who wallows in self-pity at a bar is doing it because of heartbreak, you know.”

“I know.” The stranger took a sip of his drink. “But _you_ are.”

Jae didn’t know what to say to that other than: “Are you?”

The other guy _hmm_ -ed noncommittally. “The person you’re—what was the word you used, _wallows_?—the person you’re _wallowing_ over, are they your soulmate?” 

He scowled in annoyance. “He is in the ways that matter.”

Jae wasn’t sure if he’d caught on to the odd style of wording, but the guy nodded nonetheless. He didn’t mention anything to hint that he did either.

“Then you should suck up your pride, get on your knees, grovel and work it out.”

Jae smirked. “Oh, I _tried_.”

“What are—okay, no _eew_ —that’s disgusting! Dude, what the hell? I don’t need the details of your kinky sex life, thanks!”

He chuckled and pushed his beer away from him. He put his elbow up on the table, rested the side of his face on his fist, and didn’t even care that the wet spot from his _Budweiser_ was ruining his jacket. He turned towards the—admittedly—handsome stranger and gave the guy his full attention. His reddening face was oddly—well— _cute_ ; maybe even endearing. 

“That wasn’t what I meant!” The man finally sputtered out.

“Wasn’t it?” Jae teased.

“I take my advice back. Maybe you _do_ deserve to be wallowing in your own misery. Your soulmate sure as hell shouldn’t have to put up with you.”

He would have laughed if it wasn’t for that stupid word. He smiled though, forcing out a grin and a wag of his eyebrows before finally relenting and tilting his chin towards his new drinking buddy.

“Humor me though, pretend I’m not a sleazy ass and tell me, why do you think it’s my fault? Why do you think I should be the one apologizing?”

“I don’t.”

“Then—”

“You should do it even if it’s they’re fault dummy. Be the bigger person and start the conversation so you can _talk_. Why let it fester when you can nip it in the bud—you love each other, right? If there’s one person you can give up your ego and pride to, it should probably be them, right?”

“Speaking from experience?”

Again, a noncommittal _hmm_.

“More from inexperience, I guess.” He said cryptically. “I guess, I don’t know, there are people out there in the world who don’t get the chance you do—don’t get to love someone or be loved as much as you.”

The stranger paused; the rhythmic motion of his fingers on his rocks glass halts too. His upper lip jutted out as he started gnawing on his bottom lip in seemingly melancholic concentration. His eyes were hazy; his shoulder slumped. It made Jae wonder if maybe he’d asked something he shouldn’t have. 

It went on for a good couple of seconds in awkward silence before the stranger finally shook himself out of his stupor and turned to Jae, smile back on his face as he added:

“Maybe I just think you shouldn’t take that for granted.”

The sudden change was jarring.

Jae shook off the uneasy feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach; it was rising to his chest as he huffed out a clipped: “I guess.”

The stranger didn’t add anything to that, but seemed pleased with his resignation as he downed the entirety of what was left of his whiskey. He set the rocks glass down and moved to ask for his bill, but Jae raised his hand to stop him and signaled for the bartender to join their tabs instead.

“My treat,” He explained. “For the advice.”

In all honesty, he had no idea what had put him in a generous enough mood. Maybe it was the bile-like sensation that had started messing with his stomach. Whatever the case, his new drinking buddy nodded and relented without putting up much of a fight.

“I’ll pay you back. Maybe the next time we go drinking, yeah?”

“If I follow your advice, how are you so sure there’ll be a next time?”

“There’s always a next time.” The smile was more sincere this time. Small, maybe hiding something pained and profound, but still oddly pretty and earnest nonetheless. “The point is though, that at the end of the day, you go back to them anyways. Go _home_ to them despite all the next times.”

Jae was kind of too stunned to comment when the stranger pulled a pen out of his breast pocket and handed it to him. He placed his palm on the table in front of Jae too, tilting his head as if to give him instruction.

“For next time.” He explained when Jae didn’t respond. “My treat.”

It was almost on autopilot that he nodded and wrote his phone number and name down on the guy’s hand.

He paused just as he was about to scribble down the letter _P_.

“Won’t _your_ soulmate get the wrong idea?”

There it was again. That noncommittal _hmm_ that was irking Jae more than he would ever admit.

“Trust me,” it was said with absolute confidence; the snort bubbling and obvious to Jae underneath the surface of his voice. 

“He won’t mind.”

When Jae finally got home later that night—practically midnight; just the perfect amount of time to let Brian miss him and turn to putty in his hands as he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around Brian’s waist—he stopped by the bathroom to relieve himself.

He unzipped his pants, did his business and tucked himself securely back into his boxer briefs. Jae was just about to wash his hand when he finally noticed it.

A set of digits written unevenly across his palm.

Underneath it, in _his_ handwriting, an even more familiar name. 

_Jae Park_.

———

_When Jae was a kid—probably just around eight-years-old at the time—he’d walked into the kitchen to find his father stressing over a shoebox full of receipts on the center island of their house in California. The older man had looked up, smiled, and jokingly told him that there were three things in life that everyone was guaranteed._

_The first was death._

_The second? Taxes._

_The third was a soulmate that he could communicate with by scribbling on his skin with a washable marker._

_Ironically enough, Jae made peace with the first two things on those list no problem. It was the third one he perpetually found himself having qualms with._

_He once remembered ranting to Sammy—childhood friend, neighbor and partner in crime; both of them fourteen and completely clueless to the fact that he would be moving back to South Korea in two years time—about how:_

_“It’s unfair that I don’t get to choose who I be with! Why does the universe get to make that decision?! Why does it get to tell me who I should fall in love with?! I should be the one who makes those decisions Sammy!_ **_Me_ ** _! It’s_ **_my_ ** _life!”_

_His mother told him he’d grow out of that thinking. Sammy always told him he was being a contrarian for the sake of being a contrarian. His younger sister Jamie, the traitor who’d found her soulmate at the age of four in the sandbox of her preschool, told him he was just bitter, jealous and annoyed that love wasn’t proving to be as easy for him as it was for her._

_When he turned fifteen, two years after the typical age parents finally allowed their kids to start talking with their future partners, the first message popped up._

_It was a simple_ **_Hi_** _; written in Korean that he had to ask his Dad to translate._

_Jae never wrote anything back, but that didn’t seem to deter his soulmate from writing to him everyday anyways._

**_I like the color yellow, what about you?_ **

**_What’s your name? Mine is Wonpil!_ ** ****

**_How are you today, soulmate?_ ** ****

**_Do you ever look up at the sky and smile knowing we’re under the same one?_ **

_And because Jae spoke and read Korean at only a basic level, he always had to go to his parents for help and always had to watch them coo and fawn over how adorable his supposed soulmate was._

_It got irritating, annoying and old pretty fast._

_And by the time he was sixteen, frustrated because he was leaving his friends, his life and practically his future to move back to his parents’ hometown of Seoul, Jae finally snapped and wrote his first ever message to his soulmate._

_The words had appeared on his forearm as expected. A sweet note in loopy handwriting asking him if he’d had a good day._

_Jae picked up the nearest marker and wrote back hurriedly under it._

**_I don’t want you. I’ll never want you. Leave me alone and stop talking to me!_ ** ****

_The only response he’d gotten back was a short and shakily written_ **_Ok_ ** _a good three to five hours later._

_No messages appeared on his skin ever since._

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think so far?


End file.
